The Mead of Poetry
by JbGrenade
Summary: A Nord, a Khajiit, and an Imperial walk into a bar. While the Dragonborn is a hero worth her weight in salt, most of Skyrim's inhabitants could care less of myths and legends. That is until said 'Myth and Legend' walks into your life and drags you through the mud in some wayward adventure to 'Better the populace and way of life of Skyrim's children.' I'm going to need more mead. -J


_4E 202, Province of Skyrim, Ivarstead, Vilemyr Inn_.

"Fjaler! Did you hear? They say the _DragonBorn_ lives! That they took down the dragons, and-"

"I'm going to stop you right there, there is no, and never will be, such thing as a dragon. Galar, they are a myth, legends to keep milksods like you cowering in your boots."

A Nord at the Inn's bar rolled eyes of a sea blue at the building argument behind him. While he agreed that the Dragonborn coming back was simply a rumor created by the Empire, he did not believe in starting fights because of it. He did however believe in fighting for the right things, and for the right reasons.

"Sajilbari, you slippery little moving carpet, old pal, why don't you buy your 'buddy' a drink for 'old times'."

The Khajiit, a blond, spotted fellow made an audible gasp as he looked with teary eyes to his 'old friend'. The confused misty eyes of the cat sobered quickly as his 'instincts' kicked in telling him exactly who he was sitting next to.

"Játvarðr, warm sands! Tell this one, how long has it been since I-"

"Since you were supposed to pay back what you owe? Two years cat. I want what I'm owed, I want it now."

The conversation, though it was hushed was heard by the nearby bar keep, a balding man who went by Wilhelm, and 'Drink!', to his 'friends'.

"Lads, no fighting in here, I already have to take those two idiots back home, I don't want to have to call the guard on you, specially you, Játvarðr."

Játvarðr huffed but obliged. The fight behind them had somehow shifted from a shouting bout to the two leaning on eachother sobbing and singing along to ' _The Age of Oppression_ '. The Nord heard the Khajiit snuff in disapproval, but decided to let bygones be bygones. He turned to the Khajiit, though this time his tone seemed to have flopped, switching to a jovial almost flippant tone, as if one was regarding a shield brother in the aftermath of a battle.

"So, Sajilbari, how's things, I've heard you've been rather down on your luck."

The Khajiit nodded somberly, though a small smile graced his maw.

"Yes, you Nords do not hide your distrust well, it is hard for this one to find a job in this climate. I've been thinking about tailraider work. To pay you off of course."

"Of course." The Nord nodded.

"All this talk of ' _Dragonborn_ ' has the fur in knots. Do you believe what they say."

"Hardly," Replied the Nord, "Though, in case I missed something, what have you heard?"

The Khajiits maw split into an aproximation of a smirk as he jumped into his past time. Garbage gossip, touched with just the barest hints of fact, all rapped up in a lavish tale. The Nord, having regretted his words and quickly lost his interest, signaled to Wilhelm. It was going to be a long night.

* * *

An Imperial dressed in the _Lorica Segmentata_ of the Imperial Army was parrying blow, by blow on the ridge of her shield. Overall she resembled very much the standard image of a proud imperial, proud features, and fearless in battle. Her crimson cape flowed in the blistering winds and her armor gleamed with a shine to make the former high king jealous. However, not all was going to plan, so to speak. The blows from the bandit twins afore her, began to rain down harder and harder, encouraged by their lack of progress on her defense.

'By the Divine's, I've had enough.'

The Imperial hopped back, gaining distance from her foes, and readied herself again, holding sword and shield in a Phalanx position with the sword resting atop the shield pointing at the enemy, daring them to strike. She closed her eyes, and searched her soul for the power she drew on. With a loud whisper she uttered three words of power, "Fiik, Lo, Sah,..". In a blink, there were two Imperials when before there was just one. They both stared with cold eyes at the bandits, who after thinking it over, quickly decided to fight another day. Perhaps if they knew the aetherial Imperial was simply a shade, they may have pressed on, and with luck took down the Imperial. Unlikely as that is however.

This Imperial, though looking like any other foot soldier, is the Dragonborn, however before she was the Dragonborn, she was Idun. A proud, stubborn woman fighting for her countrymen. When she fulfilled her destiny tracking down and defeating the 'First of Akatosh', she began her work on her second dream, uniting Skyrim, and all of it's children with the Empire. Though she was a realist, she allowed herself one other dream. The punshment and trials of the Aldmeri Dominion. They, like her 'Brothers' those who refer to themselves as Stormcloaks, have alot to answer for.

Idun unrolled her map, trailed her path, and began walking once more. She had a lot of ground to cover, and preferred to do it on foot if at all possible, which, coincidentilly, meant she had a time table. Next time she allowed herself to rest would be at the foot of the 'Throat of the World'

* * *

"And that, my nord friend, is how this one saw dear Frigga again."

The nord, who had begun to leave a puddle beneath his cheek as he snored on, absently nodded. To those who had never seen these two interact they'd think it to be some wierd brotherly love. The nord, would deny it staunchely, stating proudly that only his shield brother could claim that title, while the Khajiit would bristle and reply in stiff tones to change the subject on threat of Vivisection. Wilhelm however, has had enough, he shoo-ed the cat away, who proceeded to shoulder-carry the rather drunk Nord out of the door. Játvarðr, began to snore long before the Khajiit had dragged him to the outlying woods, next to the cats, moon decorated tent, after unceremoniously dropping the Nord on the ground, Sajilbari happily crawled into his own tent, thinking of ways to lose the man the next morn. Játvarðr however, was simply content with the cold soil of his home continent, his problems were for the future, heedless of how quickly the future would turn into something, much, much darker.

There was a strange wind the air, a wind causing the wildlife to cower, and bad dreams to pop up in those suspicious enough to pick them up. What was the future to hold, to Játvarðr it was gold and glory, to Sajilbari, it was freedom and knowledge, and to Idun, it was unity and duty.

Author's Note; A Nord, a Khajiit and an Imperial walk into a bar. Yes this is short, very short, Chapter 2 will be much longer, but, well, this was an excellent use of my time while I wait to get relieved of my duty. First and Foremost, these Characters are OC, so I will do my best to keep these fuckers Unique. Not an easy task when your a Novice writer. In this story there will be abundant Old Norse references, Idun, the Title and others are obvious reference to old Norse Myths. Wether or not I take this a step further and blend Elder Scrolls lore and Norse Mythology further, we'll see. Odds are of course, not in that favor, would that count as a crossover? Food for thought. Now translation and pronunciation. Játvarðr, is roughly 'Yat-var-duur', it's old norse meaning multiple things, for simplicity sake, Property-Guard is applicable, also apparently one of the precursors for the name Edward, who'da thunk'it. Sajilbari, 'Sah-jil-barr-ee', not much to say about this, just used sample khajiiti names and created this, his full name is Ja'asha Sajilbari, 'Jah-yah-shah'. And finally Idun, 'Ee-done' naturally the name is based on the Norse goddess of the same name, Idun, the fruit bearer, bearer of the immortality fruit, etc. etc. She will be the hardest to write as I'm literally using her to develop my skill in writing of women. If her descriptions or actions sound masculine, that would be the reason. Review with honest thoughts, good or bad, if your up to it of course, I don't own no damn slaves. More to follow when I get some god damned time off of my work schedule.

Jack, I don't know shit about Norse Mythology, B. Grenade

05Feb18


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